One of the things that really sucked about life was the way you didn't get do-overs; there was a lot, being brutally honest with myself, that could have gone so much better today. Turning the office into a shooting gallery wasn't one of my better moves (I hated that I still flinched at the shot, because I should have been past that by now – no doubt Tara was) and I'd pretty much given everyone present a crash-course in 'Stupid Mistakes Which Get Rookies Killed'. It was a toss-up as to which of the numerous mistakes I'd want to reverse. Probably the one where I agreed to come into work at all when I should by rights have been trying to sleep off the night before. Soon as Jed let go I was out of there.
Not that I had any illusions that my getting out of here had anything to do with me any more, so I'd wait this one out and pray Tara didn't hate me quite enough to try and push this into a firefight proper. I didn't fancy my odds much.